Ginny Potter goes fishing
by The Little House Scribe
Summary: 'Journalism'. It's the bane of the Potter's existence, so when someone tries to imply falsehoods about Harry to Ginny, her revenge is subtle...well, subtle to the idiots at the Evening Prophet.
1. Chapter 1

**Ginny Potter goes fishing.**

For a superstar Quidditch player married to probably the most famous person in the Wizarding World, Ginny Potter was doing quite an ordinary thing. She was walking; and it was as she was walking that she bumped into a few journalists. She recognised some of them; they'd become regulars around the training grounds of the Harpies; if they kept their questions professional, they got along with her well enough. Although tabloid journalists still came along, it was a less frequent occurrence than before, for which Ginny was grateful.

"Oh, you poor dear." An unfamiliar voice spoke out of an equally unfamiliar face.

Ginny was confused; yes, she hadn't scored with all her shots in training; but then, no one was perfect, despite what Harry might continually say to the contrary.

Ginny adopted a confused expression.

"Oh, but you don't know?" The face now bore an expression (totally fake, Ginny knew) of sympathy and pity. "You poor dear!"

Ginny continue to pull her 'uncertain' face.

Slowly, reminding Ginny of the sickly sweetness of Dolores Umbridge, this person produced a photograph, which it gave to Ginny to peruse.

But Ginny did not peruse it; she just glanced at it and handed it back.

It was a photograph of Harry; but Harry was not alone, he was with a woman. Now Ginny wouldn't have exploded even if the woman was a complete stranger – she trusted her husband. But this woman was not a stranger; Ginny knew her well, and the implication the 'journalist' was trying to make was truly laughable. But Ginny managed to keep her amusement to herself and scoffed at the journalist.

"One?" Ginny asked. "Just one? I can entertain a dozen men at once without breaking a sweat." As Ginny began walking off, with an expression of lament as though Harry had failed her high standard, she heard the sound of a quill scratching across parchment.

"Oh, Mizzus Potter! Missus Potter!" Ginny heard the journalist waddling to catch up with her strides. "Can you give us names, Mizzuz Potter?"

"A lady never tells." Ginny replied, and disapparated.

Harry Potter apparated near his front door. He heard a noise as he landed, and had his wand aimed at the expected source.

Someone was stuck in the rosebushes. He was a squat little man, who gave a squeal of fright when he saw Harry, and fell into to his prickly predicament.

Harry pulled him out, and the guy stumbled away before disapparating. Harry hoped he didn't splinch himself; he looked awfully frightened.

Harry went back to his front doorstep; the Evening Prophet had arrived. Harry picked it up and unlocked his front door; immediately delicious smells wafted up his nostrils. Harry hurried to get changed.

"Evening love." Harry called as he did so. Ginny replied in kind.

Harry, now changed, moved into the kitchen to assist Ginny. He made a quick check for Ron hiding in the pantry, waiting for a chance to gobble up their food whilst the Potters were distracted, but there was no Ron.

Harry grinned.

"What are you so happy about?" Ginny asked.

"Cooking is so much fun with magic."

"And why is that?"

"Well it leaves my hands free…" Harry demonstrated just what a boon that was, which made the pots and pans lose the attention of Ginny Potter.

"Ginny, is something the matter?" Harry asked callously, while the pans whistled for attention, whose cries of anguish fell on deaf ears. _Fine. _The pots thought. _Your dinner will burn._

Ginny, ignoring the wails of distress behind her, answered. "Oh, people being people, I suppose."

Harry thought that Ginny wasn't going to elaborate, so he continued to hold her.

"Life's gotten much better than it was a few years ago;" Ginny continued. "Sometimes though…"

"Did someone do something to you, love?" Harry asked, with all the love and affection he wasn't giving the pans.

Ginny's head, which had been resting on Harry's shoulder, shot up. "Not to me; well sort of, it was about you; which in turn, gets to me."

Harry kissed Ginny's forehead.

"You remember the other night at the Leaky?"

"Yes."

"Well, someone was there and snapped a picture of you and Hannah. And someone tried to imply that you were being…well, I don't know or why they do it. Can't they leave you—us alone?"

Harry hugged her understandingly, and then pulled back with a shrewd expression on his face. "You did something, didn't you?"

Ginny pulled her innocent face. "Umm…yes?"

Harry, noticing Ginny's body language, went over and picked up the Evening Prophet. Sure enough, emblazoned on the front page, was the headline

**The Sordid Secrets of Ginny Potter.**

While her husband tirelessly risks his life for the protection of us all, his gold-digging, love-potion-using wife is using her position of fame and wealth to further her own sleazy interests…

...She shamelessly admitted her actions to your stunned correspondent's ears…

…We wish Harry all the best, and hope he can be rid of this deceiver at once.

Harry read, skipping through the article.

"They're quite vitriolic tonight." Harry commented, trying to control the righteous anger he was feeling on Ginny's behalf. "What's this about 'admitting your actions.'?" Harry asked. "What did you say?"

Harry knew the accusations were unequivocally false; but he did wonder what Ginny had said.

"Well, I told them how utterly unimpressive the presence of one lady is, when I can easily get a dozen men."

"I suppose you didn't mention names."

"Of course not!"

"Names like Ron,"

"George,"

"Arthur,"

"Bill,"

"Charlie,"

"Percy,"

"Kingsley,"

"Oliver,"

"Justin,"

"Terry,"

"Neville,"

"Seamus,"

"And Xenophillius. No, I didn't think that was pertinent." Ginny said. "I am slightly ashamed that my blatant fishing got such a large catch; it wasn't as if I put any effort in at all."

"Yes, a large catch of negative public opinion." Harry observed. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, get the attention off me; but I feel the same way for you."

"Well, Public Opinion is a bit of an idiot." Ginny observed. "Besides, when they're attacking you, I lose my temper and get hex-happy. When they're on my case, I can be more controlled."

"Mad and unpredictable Ginny versus cool and calculated Ginny. I'm not sure which is more terrifying."

"Well, it'll probably be bad for a few days, but we've survived worst. And then my friend," Ginny patted Harry's shoulder. "Then my friend and husband, my plan shall be unfurled!"

"You're just making it up as you go along. You just jumped into this."

"Oh, darling, how can you suggest that I didn't have a genius plan from the very begin…okay you've got me there."

_What did it matter what the fickle pickles thought? We've got each other, and that's all that matters._

In revenge for Ginny and Harry using their mouths on each other rather than their dinner, their food burned itself. Ron would have something to say about the evils of negligence at their next meeting.


	2. Chapter 2

_Dawn breaks over a picturesque scene. The pleasant home sits upon the rolling hills, as wisps of cloud glow vermillion, reflecting the light of the oversized morning sun. The growing illumination triggers the senses of one of the home's inhabitants, and he rises with the sun to begin a new day of selfless service to others._

Harry slipped out of bed and pulled on his nightgown. He went into his en-suite and began to wash his face.

_Little does the hygienically minded man know of the horror developing in his very bedroom. Whilst he is occupied, a terrifying beast wakes from its slumber to begin its frightful exploits._

"Grlumpgh."

"Ginny, are you okay?" Harry asked, holding a toothbrush as he poked his head into their bedroom.

"Just…" Ginny stood up and bolted past Harry.

_The hideous villain exudes the remains of past victims, before sending them into a sludgy mass of horror with the press of a button. Self-Sacrificing man goes over to help the two-head lump which has invaded his personal abode._

Ginny turned to Harry who had squatted next to her. "This" *turn, cough.* "Is" *Cough cough* "your fault."

Harry smiled. "I had some help along the way."

Ginny narrowed her eyes out of their corners. "Now is not the time for flippant remarks, you accomplice in the action that caused this reaction."

Ginny stood up.

"How bad is it?" Harry asked concernedly.

"I'll be fine." Ginny waved off his concern. "It's pretty normal. Don't worry, I'll take it easy…comparatively speaking."

"Well…I'll go and make breakfast then. Anything you fancy?"

"I'm not sure I'd be able to keep anything down."

Harry inclined his head, and kissed Ginny before leaving the bathroom.

_Oh, what cruelty has Gloop-face inflicted on Self-Sacrificing Man, addling his mind into leaving her unattended. What hideous scheme is she planning now? Self-Sacrificing Man will soon see the next stage of her shocking metamorphosis._

"Gin…Ginny, what are you wearing?" Harry said, taken aback as he entered the bedroom

"What do you think, Harry?"

"Well, if it were anyone but you…" Harry tried answering diplomatically. Ginny's face was covered in more make-up than she had ever worn in her entire life.

"No, Harry, you must be honest!" Ginny commanded.

_Oh, no! Poor Self-Sacrificing Man has fallen victim to a time-honoured trick by the forces of Gloopdom. How can Self-Sacrificing Man escape from this conversational conundrum?_

"The additions cannot hope to enliven your beauty, Ginny."

"Do they do the opposite?" Ginny asked, not quite reacting the way Harry had expected.

"Err…Yeah, kind of."

"Do I look all horrible and hideous?" Ginny asked excitedly.

"I doubt that's possible." Harry said. "But for you, it's probably very close."

"Excellent!" Ginny went over to the wardrobe. "Where is Ron's dress robes when you need it?"

_Self-Sacrificing Man successfully deflects the awful interrogation of Gloopish Girl, who is now applying her war-paint. Self-Sacrificing Man flees into the shower to try to wash away the memories of their encounter._

"Well, I'm ready!" Ginny declared, in much better spirits then she'd been when she woke up.

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked, as he pulled on his tie.

"I'm going to pay Dean a visit."

"Hmm?" Harry asked, his interest piqued.

"Yes, that's why I've gotten dressed up." Ginny grinned, grinning a grin that only Ginny could grin.

Confused, bemused and amused, Harry smiled slightly, leading his wife to explain in more detail.

"Remember how I said I'd get back at the prophet?"

"Err…Yeah…That was a few years ago."

"Well, I'm writing a guest column for them. Here, I've written part of my first one." Ginny handed Harry a pad which was covered with her writing.

"…"

"You may be able to see that this is based on real events. There is the protagonist of the tale, Self-Sacrificing Man, the Mild-Mannered Menace to Meglomaniacs. His arch-nemesis is Gloop-Girl, Two-Headed Hideous Monstrosity of Unimaginable Horror. I think you'll find I can work a lot with these two characters. Of course, sometimes simply writing is not enough, and a picture tells a thousand words, so Dean is going illustrate the abomination that is Gloop-Girl for me.

"…"

"Of course, it would help if he has a visual reference, so you see the reason for my special attention to my appearance this morning."

"I love you, Ginny.'

_Alas for Poor Self-Sacrificing Man! The vile vixen, Gloop-Girl has a firm grip on his mind! His misguided loyalty to the monstrosity is as strong as ever! Will PSSM ever be free? I would PeSSiMisitic about his chances, if I were you._


	3. Chapter 3

_Self-Sacrificing Man leaves. Without the spell of Gloop-Girl nearby, he can transform into his formidable alter-ego, the vanquisher of evil, Auror Guy! With his comrades he spreads the message of goodness and light throughout the world._

_However, Auror Guy has no evil-doers to combat at the present time, so he sits behind his desk, ever waiting for wickedness to dare raise itself._

_Gloop-Girl, however, is not resting on her laurels…_

"Gargh! Where are they?" Dean Thomas asked, opening his front door when Ginny came knocking.

"Who?" Ginny asked, confused.

"The people who did that to you. If you look like that, you must have massacred them in their thousands!"

"Nah. I'm just dressed for success."

"Well, come on in." Dean ushered Ginny through the door. "I don't want to alienate the neighbourhood.

"So, what do you need me to do?" Dean asked, as the two entered his art room.

"I need you to draw me."

"Err…"

"Something the matter…"

"Well…I'd be glad to do it, Ginny, but…"

"Something wrong?"

"Well, most people try to have a flattering portrait of themselves…" Dean coughed. "And…Are you sure your eyesight's fine…Your dad wears glasses, I know."

"My eyesight is fine, Dean." Ginny said, twirling her hair, before hurling her hand at Dean.

"Got her!" Ginny exclaimed. "Take that, fiend! You shall not suck the blood of my friend!" Ginny turned back to Dean, who was looking confused and not a little apprehensive.

"Fear not, my good sir, for she has fallen by your feet!"

Dean looked down at the mosquito which was impaled on a red hair.

"Morbidly artistic, wouldn't you say?" Ginny remarked.

_Fearful for his safety and sanity, the tall, strong and athletic Drawing-Dude is no match for the wicked wiles of Gloop-Girl! He does her bidding unquestioningly, recording her vile visage for her horrendous propaganda! Will the world ever be free from her loathsome ways?_

"Are you sure this will work?" Dean asked, as he handed Ginny the finished product.

"It mightn't." Ginny conceded. "But I figure, since I'm having so much fun, it doesn't matter if they kept on saying it, because I'm saying it, you know."

"Sounds reasonable. Say, next time, stick some chocolate chips to your face and we can pretend they're moles."

_The morning passes. Gloop-Girl show the other side of her rottenness, transforming into the hideous two-headed beast that was mentioned previously. Gloop-Girl is not on the warpath any longer, so the despicable war-paint she had been wearing was washed away. She soon corners her newest victim, who was innocently eating a salad sandwich. But has Gloop-Girl met her match in…Bushy Haired Brainiac?_

"Good afternoon, Ginny." Hermione said, waving Ginny to sit with her. "How are you? Harry said you weren't feeling so well."

"Hi, Hermione. Yeah, I'm not feeling quite flash today."

"Your order, ma'am." Said the server of scrumptuosity

"Are…you sure about all that, Ginny?" Hermione asked, for the food was both rich and plentiful.

"Once upon a time…There was nothing." Ginny said ominously. "Then, it began to grow. Feeding on the energy of the world around it, the being sprouted into form, growing ever larger as it did so."

"However…" Ginny paused as she took a bite out of a potato. "It is not a benevolent being…"

The Steak was struck next. "It demands…Sacrifice!"

"You Weasleys. No one can hope to equal your capacity for chomping." Hermione said, shaking her head.

"Ah, the Dursley males can. They just can't look as good doing it. And the only thing that can surpass the eating habits of one Weasley is two Weasley. Or rather, a half-Weasley half-Potter amalgamation."

_Ah, now we see the true nature! Two sinister fiends with a sadistic symbiotic relationship? Will one destroy the other…No matter what happens, whoever wins, we lose._


End file.
